Van Helsinki: Sophia's Calls
by nototter
Summary: The story of one of those officers who 'came out ranting and raving about demons and the like'.


Sophia gasped in the cold air of the night. Clutched in her left hand was a Beretta 92FS, black and solid, magazine half-empty. Lying against a rock, she could see her breath misting in the midnight air. Her right hand was clamped firmly over her belly, where a slowly spreading patch of black-red marked the slow passing of her life. Sophia put her head back and panted, trying to overcome the pain, trying to get up and fight, get up and run, get up and live, but it was no use. Her lifeblood pumped slowly but incessantly out of her body, clogging her shirt and hand with the viscous substance. Sophia looked around her. The grass was withered and brown, dying about her just as she died too. The officer stifled a sob. She tried to squirm up to her feet, but her right leg wouldn't hold her, and a gritty scream broke through her lips. Sophia thought her leg must be broken, thought that the _thing_ had done it, when he'd thrown her aside, out the window. But she had the documents, the pictures. She needed to get them back to the Inspector. Lives depended on it. They'd never believe her without them. Slowly, painfully, she writhed her way backwards. A slow crawl down onto the road, and then painful dragging of her body along the ground, leaving a bright red trail visible to all. Sophia gritted her teeth and continued, but she had made no more than six or seven metres towards the village exit when she was forced to stop by exhaustion. The policewoman lay there in the middle of the road, panting, one leg awkwardly splayed. She was too exposed here. Painstakingly slowly, Sophia moved herself forward another few inches, then rolled onto her back, biting back another scream as her injured leg flopped hard against the ground. The officer reached inside her jacket pocket, and extracted the photographs.

The grinning _thing_ stared back at her. Black cape, fangs, white face, it looked like some of Halloween vampire. Some sort of punk playing a practical joke, perhaps, or more sinisterly, some kind of mentally deranged would-be murderer. That was what she would have guessed by the picture. But she'd seen it. She'd seen the 'poof' of red smoke, seen the 'snap' of the air as the _thing _simply disappeared, then felt the blow to the side of her head and watched the world tumble as she flew towards the window, hit the side of the sill, then rolled out down the grassy lawn. Her head spun even remembering it. How could this be? What was this? Sophia couldn't answer these questions. She knew she needed to get back to the Inspector, needed to get medical help. Her leg was growing cold in the night breeze, and she pulled herself along with her hands. Her stomach wound grated on the floor, and she winced as she remembered the two men who had come to get her outside the window where she had landed. Both armed, M9's by the looks of things. They'd fired, but they were amateurs, men who had never held a gun before, and their aim was poor. She'd drawn her Beretta and returned fire, and she thought she'd clipped one of them, but it didn't seem to have made any effect. Sophia wondered if they'd been drugged. In a normal world, it would seem to explain a lot, but then, in a world where men dressed as vampires teleported around, it wouldn't seem to explain anything. Anyway, they'd got her in the end. The one on the left had stepped forward, too close, and as Sophia had raised her pistol he'd shot her, once, in the side. She'd pumped his body full of bullets, four or so, but then his companion had come up and she'd been forced to retreat, a half-limping, half-rolling fall down to the road. The man hadn't followed. She didn't understand why. She didn't understand much about what was going on. Sophia's mind was starting to swirl through blood loss. She felt sick and dizzy as she crawled down the village road. Ahead, the officer glimpsed the crossroads. Just a little more. The woman scrambled on her belly across the gravelled road, every movement scraping her wound, making her cry out. If anybody wanted to find her, all they had to do was listen. Please let the Inspector be listening, Sophia prayed in her head. Please God, please.

She heard pounding footsteps nearby, and lowered her head, begging all the deities she knew of for it to be the Inspector. Instead, a female voice from above her spoke.

'Sophia? Is that you?' Sophia made a noise, something between a moan and a sob. The unknown female stooped down to her level. 'My God, what happened Sophia?' Sophia summoned the last of her energy.

'Demons. Vampires. Hitmen. In the village. Get me a hospital. Please.' Sophia felt herself being rolled over and screamed out 'Don't move me, don't move me!' but it was too late. Her broken leg flopped, and Sophia screamed again. Above her, the redheaded assistant to the Inspector knelt next to her.

'We'll get you a hospital, Sophia, don't worry.' As the Inspector came pounding up, Sophia leant in close to the woman, as a thought struck her.

'Get Van. Get Van. Get him now.' Sophia flopped down, exhausted. For felt for a pulse, and got one, weak and flittering. The Inspector bent down.

'What is it, Ford?' Ford bent round.

'It's Sophia. She's been shot, her leg is broken. If we get her a medic now, she'll live. Just.'

'I'm on it.' The Inspector whipped his phone out, and dialled. When he was done, he looked back at Ford. 'Who did this?', he asked. Ford looked a little awkward.

'She says…she says demons, vampires and hitmen did it.' The Inspector looked down at the comatose police officer.

'Anything else?' Ford looked into his eyes.

'Yes. She said to get Van.' The Inspector swore, and looked away. Ford continued to stare at him. 'What do we do, sir?'

The Inspector sighed, heavily, then looked back at Ford.

'Get him. Get Van Helsinki.'


End file.
